Thursday, September 22, 2016

** YES, there are spoilers for Civil War II #5 and previous issues ahead **

I tried to be optimistic; truly, I did. Because more often
than not, I find myself forgiving egregious mistakes in my head if it means
telling a better story. How can Batman have a nuanced, tactical conversation
with his undead brother in on the wing of an airborne passenger plane next to
an ear-splitting engine turbine? Because comic books, that’s how. Why did
Wolverine show up in every freaking Marvel title every month until they had to
kill him in The Death of Wolverine? I
figured his healing factor might mean he doesn’t need to sleep, thus he gets
bored and says why not?

But Brian Michael Bendis’ Civil War II #5 is just plain bad. I can’t sugar-coat it or find
any silver lining – it’s simply a disjointed, unconvincing, deeply unaware
issue of an already-conflicted series presented as a keystone issue yet failing
to even come across as necessary. And while David Marquez has been carrying the
series more than I wanted to admit, his artwork in this issue is similarly
underwhelming to the point of frustration.

And as much as I try to separate the content of what I read
from press and other outside aspects (e.g. – love me some Watchmen, but Moore is a crazy nutjob), knowing Civil War II was expanded to eight
issues on top of further delays for the previously-scheduled issues is
downright infuriating. The one concrete excuse is the birth of Marquez’s child
which slowed down the art process. Life happens and I wish Marquez and his
family the best, but beyond this one
aspect, Bendis added another issue and Marvel expanded the publication
timeframe so Civil War II will end
after new #1 issues for ‘Marvel NOW!’ 2.0 have already started shipping. This
whole situation is basically Secret Wars
all over again except this time no one cares. An ‘extra’ issue with “The Final
Vision”? Really? Get the eff outta here.

Which brings me back to Civil
War II #5, an issue that simultaneously acts as the turning point of the
series and the absolute worst chapter so far. Anticipation for this issue was
high after the staring contest at the end of the Civil War II #4, and seeing all the various heroes siding with
their Captain or Shell Head respectively was beautiful because it meant the actually fighting would start!

Marquez spent a lot of time on the initial fight splash at
the beginning of this issue, and while that’s super cool, it belies the fact
that Bendis decided to throw a ton of characters into the fray without giving
them proper context. Why does Flash Thompson, a.k.a. Agent Venom side with
Captain Marvel just because they’re friends? I’m not saying it’s not possible
for Flash to agree with Carol, but to just pigeonhole him in the “Change the
Future” camp without asking why
becomes distracting. Similarly, the older X-Men seem to have just given up and
decided the Inhumans will be their salvation. How this makes sense, I do not
know – the T-mist clouds and the arrogance of the Inhumans when it comes to
mutants cannot bode well for that inter-species relationship (see the upcoming Death of X which leads into Inhumans vs. X-Men then Inhumans/X-Men: ResurrXion…not even
kidding about that last one), yet Storm and Magick are out there rearing to let
Ulysses solve all their problems.

There are a ton of vignettes in Civil War II #5, a string of ‘moments’ that don’t really add up to
anything of substance of consequence. This was one of the most poignant
criticisms of Batman v Superman: Dawn of
Justice, that Zack Snyder cared more about epic, explosive, awe-inspiring
snippets than he did plot or character development. Here, Bendis throws in a
handful of hero-fighting-hero moments to drive home the fact that these are
friends fighting one another…this time,
it’s PERSONAL! Except it isn’t because again, there’s no context for why
any of these heroes agree with Carol Danvers at all.

And yes, I’m ‘choosing a side’ because there’s only one that
makes sense. Carol’s manipulation of Ulysses’ ability is astoundingly stupid,
especially given the knowledge that the boy’s power is just a hyper-advanced
form of biological algorithms based on ambient environmental awareness – how
does Carol not see that her mission affects Ulysses’ visions? How can she be so
obtuse as to not recognize that she is in
his immediate environment and affects his powers quite literally every day!

Even with only basic knowledge of the heroes on Tony Stark’s
team, it’s rather easy to understand why they fight against profiling and
pre-crime jurisdiction. I mean seriously – Tony has both Captain Americas,
heroes displaced from the past and the
future (they’re not likely to want to mess with time, I assume),
Luke-freaking-Cage, and even a sorcerer that interprets and understands the
fabric of reality on a larger scale than anyone else there. Carol’s team is
full of massive egos (Black Panther, Gamora, Angela, Star Lord, Magick) and
people who work for her (Puck, Sasquatch, Aurora, Blue Marvel, Spectrum).

Let’s not forget how Bendis needed to seed his upcoming
final Guardians of the Galaxy run by
having Vision destroy the team’s ship and spend half a page doing so, or that
he effectively turns Carol Danvers into a child when she screams “MINE” and
attacks Tony Stark when he’s already down. This sequence shows how immature
Carol is under Bendis’ hand, that she would rather beat Tony herself than see
him taken in by Black Panther and the fighting de-escalated. She cares more
about beating Tony than ethics or compassion, and that is a huge, giant,
massive problem not only for the series as a whole, but also for Carol Danvers
going forward.

Before Civil War II began
and I still had some semblance of hope it could be interesting and provocative
(in a good way), I actually defended Carol’s stance in this debate. Carol was
military and has years of experience both good and bad to inform her decisions.
It actually makes sense that she would use her power as a member of the
Ultimates and the leader of Alpha Flight to protect humanity to the best of her
ability with whatever tools she can. What doesn’t
make sense is how dogmatic she’s become, how she gets completely defensive when
the evidence shows how Ulysses’ power is flawed. Carol Danvers isn’t so petty
as to ignite a full-on crisis between superheroes simply to win an argument she
knows she can’t. Yet that seems to be exactly
how Bendis positions her in Civil War II#5.

There’s truly no excuse for a filler issue this terrible in
Marvel’s flagship event. It took a series called Civil WAR II nearly seven issues (counting #0 and the Free Comic Book
Day 2016 issue that is so integral to the story it makes me furious when I
think about it being a limited release that isn’t part of the main series) to
get to the actual fighting, and when it did only felt dull and bloated. Yes,
it’s fun to have an entire issue of heroes fighting heroes, but when the reason
is stupid and the characters feel forced or out of place, the whole concept
crumbles. And then there’s the final twist at the end.

*** MAJOR SPOILER AHEAD ***

*** SERIOUSLY -- READ THE ISSUE FIRST IF YOU CARE ***

*** LAST WARNING ***

HOLY F#&KING SHIT SOMEONE ELSE IS GOING TO DIE! DOOM!
GLOOM! EVERYONE BE SHOCKED BECAUSE IT IS SHOCKING! OH AND LOOK! IT IS IMAGERY I
HAVE USED BEFORE ONLY NOW IT’S REAL EXCEPT NOT! EVERYONE WILL LOVE THIS BECAUSE
I LOVE THIS!

I assume this is how Bendis reacted to the idea when he
first had it. When Ulysses’ weird snake fingers start grabbing everyone for a
new vision like a parasitic drumroll, it just so happens to be a character
Brian Michael Bendis created standing triumphantly over a dead Steve Rogers. Oh
how could it be?!?!? Perhaps because Bendis has been pushing for Miles Morales
to have a larger profile for years and now he gets his chance. Or maybe because
this is all inconsequential in the long run based on ‘Marvel NOW!’
solicitations. Because the vision will not come to pass, and when it doesn’t,
this whole sequence will be devoid of narrative purpose; it’s retroactively made
itself meaningless, which is a horribly astounding feat for chronological
storytelling.

During Civil War,
it was quite obvious Mark Millar wanted audiences to sympathize with Captain
America and his rogue Secret Avengers fighting against the federal tyranny of
Iron Man and the Superhero Registration Act (SRA). Sure, the conceit was
“Choose Your Side”, and there were compelling arguments for Tony’s system of
accountability in an increasingly paranoid world often informed by emotion over
logic, but the fact remained that Cap represented freedom over Tony’s ‘big
brother’ approach.

Civil War II
demonstrates none of the socio-political nuance the original did, however
flawed Millar and Steve McNiven’s narrative may have been. At least the
Superhero Registration Act represented a concrete focal point – Ulysses is a
character being treated like a prop brought in when Bendis feels things are
lagging. Why did the Inhumans bring Ulysses to the Triskelion in the middle of
a huge battle right after Medusa said he would stay in New Attilan? Because the
story demanded it. Why does Venom give two craps about someone else wearing a
spider-themed costume when there are at least three others running around doing
the same thing? Because Bendis wanted to see Venom fight Miles Morales. Why
does any of this fighting matter? It doesn’t because this isn’t a fight that
can be fought with fists or steel or bullets or lasers.

Let’s say Carol does
beat Tony into the ground at the end and ‘wins’ the war: so what? Is that going
to change Tony’s mind about the ethics of arresting people for crimes they
haven’t committed? Is one team beating up another going to make the losers
rethink their values or amend their personal morality to fall in line with
Carol’s own? Readers often forget that in the Marvel universe, the Superhero
Registration Act was wildly popular and sped through the House and Senate to
become law. From the reader's perspective, Steve Rogers and his Avengers are ‘rebels’,
but in the eyes of ordinary American citizens on Earth-616, they’re domestic
terrorists actively fighting against something the majority of people wanted.

Civil War II is
about ideology, which helps drive a story but can’t necessarily be the focus. The
Superhero Registration Act represented accountability for the superhero
community, but it also carried with it lasting consequences when heroes became
criminals for doing their jobs. In the Ulysses situation, Iron Man is no more a
criminal or any less accountable because he disagrees with Carol Danvers’ security-first
approach. Conversely, Captain Marvel has routinely and unabashedly arrested and
imprisoned dozens of individuals based on one factor that flies in the face of “innocent
until proven guilty.” There’s no way to cheat justice, yet Carol seems to
believe her opinion matters more than anyone else because she can decide how to change the future because she knows the best path to take because she has the experience that she deems necessary.

Civil War II #5 is
the worst issue of the series so far, one that reinforces every reason why this
event is so frustrating. Brian Michael Bendis is completely out of sorts
relying on a subjective narrative tool to drive an entire superhero conflict
that routinely uses shock value as a crutch to actual story progression.

Wednesday, September 7, 2016

As Batman #6 hits stands today, I took a look at Tom King's first full arc on DC's Batman, a series that garnered huge critical and commercial success under Scott Snyder's hand over the past five years. Now, King has the opportunity to apply his unique brand of narrative aesthetic to the Dark Knight of Gotham City.

Tom King is a superstar and he’s only seriously been in the
game for 26 months. Grayson, The Omega
Men, The Vision, and Sheriff of
Babylon all led to DC’s confidence in the man they gave Batman. King’s operatic style lends
itself to the Dark Knight, ironically juxtaposed to Scott Snyder’s more
visceral run during the ‘New 52’. King’s Batman
and Batman both bear a subtler tone emphasizing ethical dilemma and conflicting
morality. In this first arc, “I Am Gotham”, Batman wants so badly to believe
new superhumans Gotham and Gotham Girl represent everything he can’t be, everything he wishes he could be that he missteps and
makes crucial mistakes. These siblings are a symbol of what Bruce hopes the future
can become, and he doesn’t really know what to do.

Batman’s perfectionism works as a mentoring tool when
recipients already possesses confidence in themselves; Superman knows where he
stands and thus applies Batman’s logic to his own circumstance without going
full-on Dark Man of Steel of the Night. Similarly, Batman’s various allies
survive Bruce’s nigh-impossible training regimen because they’ve dedicated
themselves to the cause and have the drive to maintain their own selves through
the process. Hank and Claire Clover are fledgling heroes still discovering
themselves and their powers while trying to earn Batman’s trust and protect their city; cognitive
dissonance is real and only exacerbated by the presence of superpowers and
stranger-than-fiction happenstance. It’s no wonder Gotham goes insane.

And this is the entire conceit of “I Am Gotham”, insight on
the relationship between good and evil and what it means to be part of
something bigger than yourself. To Batman, that means sacrificing desire, emotion,
and sympathy to become better. To Gotham Girl, that means following her big
brother who she knows is benevolent and well-meaning because they made a pact.
For Gotham, it means sacrificing his soul to fix what it broken because there’s
no other way.

Batman #3 brings
this theme to the forefront with the origin of Gotham that bears a striking
resemblance to Batman’s own – and he knows it. As Matches Malone (a fantastic
return of Bruce’s scummy alter-ego), Bruce interviews the Mr. and Mrs. Clover
and learns about their children’s commitment to doing good and helping those
less fortunate, and as much as they don’t know how, they do know their kids are superheroes now. Henry Clover’s
description of Gotham City finds hope in the darkness and sees light between
shadowy dealings, not unlike Bruce’s own father. It’s this sympathy that
compels Batman to want to believe in
Gotham and Gotham Girl because he sees in them what could have been and lets
his emotions guide his actions.

In the first few chapters, David Finch’s hyper-detailed DC
house style feels at-odds with King’s more elegant and nuanced script, but as
the story continues it becomes clear that Finch was purposely chosen for his
style to accentuate the corrosion of good. Hank’s purpose-driven life is to see
Gotham City lifted up from the putrid darkness and rise to glory. When he
discovers that even with seemingly unlimited power he cannot be the savior
Gotham City needs, Hank’s world shatters and no one can pick up the pieces.
Batman inspired a young Hank to be a better person, but he also inspired
tunnel-vision dedication to an impossible task that breaks a young man’s mind.
And a god proven wrong can be disastrous.

Claire wasn’t there when Hank and their parents were mugged,
so her connection to the mission is tangential; she can see the cracks forming
in her brother’s psyche, but she doesn’t really know any other way besides her
faith in Hank. Trauma inspired Hank which inspired Claire, yet when Gotham’s
existential dread becomes overwhelming, she can’t empathize, confused by her
brother’s erratic actions. Hank’s own breakdown indirectly breaks his sister,
and the whole thing falls apart.

Batman doesn’t really overwhelm or over-burden these young
heroes; he simply presents them with the reality of their cause, the truth of
their dedication to a city that will not be tamed or made calm. In recent
years, Gotham City has been slowly molded into a sort-of tertiary character in
the DC universe in the way the European countryside and ruined cityscapes
becomes integral to World War II films. Hank and Claire spent so much time
looking for the good in their city they failed to expose themselves to the bad,
and when it becomes clear the darkness has no end, Hank loses his faith.

True evil is often committed by those who believe they are
right and altruistic, by individuals jaded enough by the world to believe the
ends justify their horrific means. “I Am Gotham” extrapolates this classic
trope to give Hank Clover more clarity as a character: this isn’t just another
looney, brightly-themed villain, but rather a set of distinct and unwavering ethics
distilled into a relatable hero who falls from grace. Gotham is all of us
because the weight of our own lives is sometimes too much, so how could we ever
hope to carry an entire city? Even in a fantastical, mystical, hyper-advanced
world of heroes and villains and aliens and monsters, nihilism is one hell of a
drug.